


A Demonstration of Fractured Existence

by bloodypomegranate



Series: Broken Hearts Club [1]
Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Consensual Underage Sex, Dirk is 17, F/M, Internalized Homophobia, Roxy is 16, Sadstuck, it seems the only things i can write are depressing as fuck, sorry about that dirk, tw: alchoholism, tw: self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 09:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2542589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodypomegranate/pseuds/bloodypomegranate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There was vehemence in the way they crashed against each other, the way he slammed her against the wall with every thrust and the way she bit down on the rough fingers that curled inside her mouth, choking her into silence. It was vicious, frenzied, chaotic. An explosion of violence fuelled by the pain that’d been festering within them for far too long. The way they fucked was never about love, or lust. It was about proving themselves – a demonstration of their fractured existence."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Demonstration of Fractured Existence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Diagnonsense](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diagnonsense/gifts).



_“Between your lips, the dark field meets a night sky. I am inside each ragged breath and the pause between."_

_–Carole Glasser Langille_

 

 

_March, 1995_

 

* * *

 

 

Dirk didn’t know exactly how he ended up where he was.

He’d always been the most secluded of people, afraid of touch too tender, light too bright and sound too sharp.

But here he was, standing stiffly in a room of hundreds. The smell of adolescent sweat intermingled with the stark bitterness of cheap beer as he uncomfortably pressed against the bodies of strangers while being assaulted by radiating music so loud and jarring it overpowered rational thought.

The chaos was like a drug, elevating him outside of himself – but only momentarily before chashing back again. The teenager felt as if he were stuck within a state of constant flux. It was the curse of a rigidly logical mind poisoned with alcohol. There was always a scraping piece of his subconscious that couldn’t let go, that reeled against the loss of self, causing a startling ricochet between crippling anxiety and absentminded bliss as he moved within the beast of dancing adolescence.

 _Why am I here?_ The thought crossed his mind swiftly before disappearing again.

There were remnants of memory scattered in his mind. The musky scent of a lover. _Kissing_. A broken picture frame. _Bruising_. The jolting sound of furious screaming. _Blood_.

Struck with sudden vertigo, a moment of clarity crushed Dirk like an icy tempest against his crawling skin. Looking down at his purple, skin-split knuckles, the world shattered around him in a moment of cataclysmic sobriety.

 

 

Roxy knew exactly how she ended up where she was.

Her entire world travelled in a pedantically broken cycle of pleasure and pain; of neon nights and disconnected days that spiralled her through time in an uncaring, cataleptic haze. The searing sensation of vodka lurched down her throat as she clutched the neck of a bottle like a lifeline. It left an after-taste of bitterness fitting of the concentrated acrimony that plagued the anchor she called a heart.

Her eyes rested on the rigidly still boy standing amoungst the swaying masses across the floor, the one with hair white as snow and eyes concealed by a pair of ridiculous shades. There was no control in her movements, no hesitation in her stride as she made her way towards him, wondering if he could tear her away from all she was.

And so with fingers that ghosted across his hips, she snapped him out of his stillness.

 

 

An emptily ardent Dirk didn’t even think before he tugged the girl with cotton-candy pink hair towards him, fingers gripping into her sides. She yelped in surprise and giggled, responding enthusiastically by feeling her hands beneath his thin shirt and up his chest.

He pressed his eyes closed, rabidly reciting the same deluded mantra through his head as if it were the only thing holding his splintering parts together.

S _he can fix me. She can fix me. She can fix me._

They stumbled their way through the crowd; a giddy, slurring Roxy in the lead as Dirk numbly allowed himself to be led away. The sporadic music and strobing lights became white noise in his mind as he aggressively shoved her up against a door, crashing their lips together.

Together they tumbled into the room, all clashing teeth and burning touches. Shirts found themselves ripped away from feverish skin, and Roxy was shoved violently against the wall. With a moan, she dug her sharp fingernails into his back.

S _he can fix me. She can fix me. She can fix me._

A scorching detachment had finally burned away all sense of reason from Dirks mind, leaving a manic, animalistic version of himself in its place. The sort of person who held the fragile girl with bruising fingers and bit down on her neck. Roxy let out a shrill squeal as her body radiated with a mix of pleasure and pain.

The sound scratched across Dirks mind and he clasped a hand over her mouth, unable to handle the noises she made; they were too piercing, too sharp, too _feminine._

But he wasn’t conscience enough of his actions to stop, clinging desperately with need – not to the strange women he was entangled in, but that single fervent thought racing through his mind:

S _he can fix me. She can fix me. She can fix me._

 

 

With eyes wide and wild, Roxy’s underwear was ripped aside as her hand slipped down the boy’s tight jeans, unknowing that the hardness she found had less to do with her, and more to do with drunken desperation.

There was vehemence in the way they crashed against each other, the way he slammed her against the wall with every thrust and the way she bit down on the rough fingers that curled inside her mouth, choking her into silence.

It was vicious, frenzied, chaotic. An explosion of violence fuelled by the pain that’d been festering within them for far too long. The way they fucked was never about love, or lust. It was about proving themselves – a demonstration of their fractured existence.

Roxy immersed herself in the aching euphoria as she reached her high, drawing beads blood to the surface of his skin as her sharp nails clawed into Dirk’s back.

He didn’t make a sound as he came shortly after, jaw locked and eyes squinted shut as if to pretend it wasn’t happening.

“Sorry, luv.” Dirk whispered as he slipped out of her grasp, ghosting out of the pitch-black room.

Roxy slid to the floor, breaths heaving and cheeks flushed. She reached for something breakable – which happened to be an old lamp – and flung it across the room with a frustrated cry. In the darkness, she heard it shatter. Uncontrollable sobs escaped her and she buried her face in her knees. Thin arms wrapped around her legs, holding herself together, as ugly tears streamed down her face feeling all torn up inside.

She didn’t even know why she was crying – he’d been so _beautiful_ , that nameless boy. Why couldn’t he just take her with him? Why did they _never take her with them?_

Why did her beautiful boys never love her?

Why did they never save her?

 

 

Dirk’s fist collided against the wall.

Outside, alone in an alleyway, he lashed out again. And again. And again. Scabs split upon and blood splattered, all thick and sticky over the rough bricks. Everything within him hummed with electricity. Feverish and agitated, he was a live wire ready to ignite.

Every nerve in his body was rapidly firing, his heart thrumming like a humming bird in his chest, the heat beneath his skin aching to unleash itself. Dirk had finally reached his breaking point.

And then the sky cracked opened. Rain poured down upon him, the cool droplets releasing him from the sweltering Texan air.

Teeth gritted he motioned to collide his fist with the wall again, but something faltered within him and instead he reached out to the wall for support as all the energy seemed to flood from his body in a moment of vertigo. Head rested against the bricks, he let out a cry of anguish – it was a terrible sound, caught raw in his throat like that of a dying animal.

But those bright eyes crisp as a burning sunset spilled no tears.

A sense of utter disgust settled in his stomach, his heart clenching with self-loathing and disappointment. Regret staining everywhere his skin had brushed hers.

 _That girl was meant to fix me_ , he thought with jarring dejection, too tired to conjure his rage once more.

And just like that, his entire being flooded with emptiness. He couldn’t feel the rain on his face or the ache of his broken knuckles or the despair in his heaving chest.

Lost within his lacuna, Dirk disconnected from it all.

Such a shame that girl couldn’t fix him.

She had been so beautiful.


End file.
